Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“You were an architect?” I ask, shocked, lowering my glass. “How didn’t I know that?”
“Because I’ve never told you.”
I give him a playful, dirty look. “And how much more haven’t you told me?”
He laughs lightly. “I followed in my dad’s footsteps, but I was more modern than Dad’s classic grand. I loved mixing old with new. Like ancient, raw bricks with frameless glass. Clean plaster with original tumbled floors.” He gazes around the Piano Bar. “Dad was old, I was modern. With this place, I wanted to make sure there was plenty of his influence. For Mum.”
“I think he would have loved it.”
Jude smiles mildly, nodding his thanks when a bottle of beer is put in front of him. “We’ll take the burrata, prawns, and risotto, please, Audrey. Make sure there’s no nuts in any of those. Or anywhere near them.”
“I’m pretty sure there isn’t,” she says, smiling.
“Well, I was pretty sure there weren’t nuts in the Eton Mess, and yet there was.” He hands the menu back on a tight smile and Audrey blinks. “Double-check, okay?”
“Of course.” She casts a smile my way before she leaves, and I return it, feeling like a massive inconvenience.
“Do you enjoy running Arlington Hall?” I ask, because that’s an entirely different ball game and out of his architectural scope. Jude was right. It’s a very special place, and that’s entirely down to him. The effort he’s put in to making it what Evelyn Harrison imagined, the time and dedication he’s given in honour of his parents. It’s admirable.
“I hardly run it. Hiring the best team was essential, given I knew fuck all about running a hotel.” He laughs. “I’ve learned along the way with their help. Honestly, they’re invaluable. Especially Anouska. She was managing a hotel in Manhattan before I poached her.”
“You’re ruthless.”
Amusement slides across his lips, stretching them. “Maybe.” His hand meets my knee, and I shift in my chair, electric shocks shooting up my thigh and smacking me straight between my legs.
“So ruthless,” I say, breathless.
“Shall we take lunch in bed?”
I’m up like a shot, Jude’s gaze rising with me. I need to get him somewhere private before I make a spectacle of us both. “I’ll see you upstairs,” I say, hearing him chuckle as I go.
I leave the bar with haste, making my way through the lobby, my stomach fluttering madly, and I’m about to take the stairs when I see Katherine rounding the corner from the spa. She’s in her gym kit, but judging from the lack of sweat and the fact her makeup is perfect, I’m guessing she’s not made it there yet. I look down at my leggings. Feel at my still-warm, slightly clammy cheeks. What the hell did you do to my car, you mad bitch?
She falters in her pace when she sees me, her animosity instant. Why is she still kicking around here?
I mentally demand my feet to carry me up the stairs, away from her toxic energy, but for all the will in the world, they won’t bloody budge.
“Amelia,” she says, resting her weight on one hip. It’s the kind of stance a woman takes when she’s about to launch into ultra-snarky bitch mode. Call another woman she dislikes and doesn’t respect sweetheart or something equally condescending.
I somehow manage to convince my legs to work.
“How’s your new car?” she calls, quickly halting me again. Staring forward, I imagine all the ways I’d like to hurt her. But in this moment, I realise the best, most effective way is to simply be with Jude.
So I turn and smile, walking backwards up the last few steps. “My new car is as beautiful as my new boyfriend. As comfortable to ride too.” Now I must shut up and move on, and yet her face, a picture of pure indignation, is like petrol on my flames. “Oh, and, Katherine, you must try the new cocktail on the menu. I hear it packs a punch. Toodle-oo.” I pivot and smirk to myself as I walk, getting ready to strip the moment I’m in Jude’s apartment.
“My God, you actually think you know him, don’t you?”
My feet falter, but somehow, I keep walking. I don’t like the sound of that at all. I make it through the door of Jude’s apartment and breathe in deep, fighting back the angry increase of my heartbeats, pacing up and down, hearing her say that last thing over and over. What the hell did that mean?
Jude bursts through the door, his T-shirt half off. He screeches to a halt, looking me up and down. “Why aren’t you naked?”
“I just ran into Katherine.”
His shoulders drop. That pisses me off too.
“She laughed at the idea that I think I know you.” My arms fold across my chest. Protective. Like a woman getting ready to block something damaging. I huff under my breath and unfold them. “Why would she laugh at that?” I ask. “Is there something I should know?” Or something more? And can I take it?